Life After Victory
by SookieMerlotte
Summary: The telling of life after the epic battle in Ron's POV. I don't own the Harry Potter world or any of the characters in it.
1. Chapter 1

After the Battle

Ron left the hot water continue to wash over his shoulders long after he was clean. He knew that there was no way to literally force the stress and grief and sorrow of the past 48 hours, or for that matter the past year, down the drain; he was simply taking in the joy of being clean. After the trio's time in the tent, Ron had grown to consider hot showers one of the finer points in life.

Harry had opted to strip down to his knickers and crawl right into bed after they finished the sandwiches Kreature had brought them. In actuality, Harry seemed to fall asleep half way through his meal. Ron figured he finished it out of sheer habit.

Ron reluctantly turned off the water and reached for the towel Kreature was nice enough to bring him. The elf was even able to rustle up a pair of pajama pants for him to wear for the night.

Ron had watched the elf dutifully scooping up Harry's dirty clothes. "Mr. Weasly will leave his clothes on the floor for Kreature," he croaked pushing Ron toward the bathroom.

"You don't have to do that Kreature," Ron had said softly. "You fought hard today too."

"Kreature knows he doesn't have to. Kreature wants to."

And he couldn't argue with that. So here he stood with a clean towel and trousers. His mind drifted to Fred and he momentarily had to steady himself on the sink. His incredibly obnoxious brother would never pair with his twin to drive Ron to the brink of insanity again. Right now, the end of Lord Voldemort, the nemesis he, Harry, and Hermione had been fighting for years, did not seem real. He could gather no respite from thoughts of their victory. He tried to focus on those thoughts that did comfort him. The fact that his family had not been hit harder. Pride that his best friend proved to be stronger and braver than anyone had ever imagined. And Hermione. A ghost of a smile crept across his lips and he inadvertently brushed his fingers there. He had finally kissed Hermione.

Ron quietly crept back into the dormitory that he and Harry had called their home for so many years. For Ron, it was a second home, fitting enough for a school environment. For Harry, it had been the first place he could truly call home since the now deceased Lord Voldemort had stollen his first home from him before he could speak. Ron figured Harry would come back to the Burrow with him. And he genuinely hoped that his friend could fine some peace now that the war had been won. And as much as Ron knew that Harry liked his company, being mates and all, he knew that the company Harry craved the most was Ginny. Ron didn't mind. The more time Harry spent with Ginny, the more he, himself, could spend with Hermione.

Ron glanced at the sleeping form in the bed across the room. Harry hadn't even stirred when the door opened or when the floor board creaked three paces unto the room. Ron sat on his bed and flopped backward. He stared at the hangings on his four-poster bed and an odd thought occurred to him, this wasn't really his bed anymore. He hadn't slept in it in nearly a year, and tonight may very well be the last time he closed his eyes to this view of the world. He wondered how the sheets came to be on it and clean. Had the elves started making beds as soon as the battle concluded?

He didn't have long to ponder the appearance of clean linens before he heard the groan of the bedroom door. He sat bolt upright in bed.

The ghost of the smile that had been on his face in the washroom returned as he saw Hermione tip-toeing toward him. He tried, but was unable to stifle a chuckle. "What are you wearing?"

She put her arms to her sides and started to place her body in the position of a standard Hermione huff, but glancing down at herself, she had to laugh too. "I always wondered what happened to these. They were my favorite pajamas in my first year."

"Where were they?" Ron asked, for lack of any better questions coming to mind.

Hermione shrugged. "One of the blasts must have knocked over my old dresser. I guess these had fallen behind the drawers, because they were lying next to it."

She was clad in pair of pink and purple pajama pants that hugged her legs so tightly Ron could see her thigh muscles flex and release with each step she took closer and closer to him. The waist band rested on her hip bones and the bottoms fell just below her knees. The pink and purple swirled tank top had a picture of a grey kitten with bright blue eyes. The shirt looked as though it was supposed to be short on an eleven year old Hermione, now a good six inches of skin showed. Scratch that, a delectable six inches of skin showed that was now mere inches away from him.

The patch of skin seemed to pull him forward as if it were a magnetic force until his bare arms were around her and his head leaned against her chest. He felt her fingers twine into his hair as she hugged him closer to her. It was the single best sensation Ron could ever remember feeling.

"Ginny stopped in to tell me she was heading back to the Burrow with your Mum and Dad," Hermione said.

He took the fact that she was still playing with strands of his hair as a sign that he did not have to move, so he stayed put. "Mmm," he mumbled.

"I told her I would be along with you and Harry tomorrow." She punctuated her sentence with a soft kiss to the top of his head.

They stayed in their entwined positions in companionable silence for a few minutes. "Ron?" she finally asked.

"Yeah?" He leaned back to look at her.

"You know, when we got to Shell Cottage, after we got out away from Malfoy Manor..."

Ron reluctantly took one of his hands from her waist and brushed a strand of hair back from her face. "Go on," he encouraged.

"Did you ever miss the tent?"

Hermione said the question so fast, it took Ron a moment to decipher it. He definitely hadn't missed the tent's pathetic excuse of a washroom, but there were aspects that he had. "Sometimes," he said returning his hand to the bare patch of skin at her waist.

"Can I sleep next to you like we did in the tent?" she asked running her fingers down the side of his cheek.

Ron smiled a full smile for the first time in recent memory. He stood up. "No," he said before pulling her to him. Her lips felt even better than they did the first time. Maybe it was the fact that he could savor them rather than rush through the process and proceed to battle. Maybe it was the fact that she was wearing the skimpy little kitten thing. Maybe it was because he had already tasted them once so he knew the greatness that was coming. Whatever the reason, he savored each sensation. Her lips were so soft and her tongue danced and mingled with his. But finally it was time to take a breathe.

"Did you say, 'No'?" She asked stepping back, looking up at him with her hands on her hips.

He pulled back the covers and jumped in between them before patting the spot next to him. "I was hoping to be considerably closer than we were in the tent."

She had that look on her face that she often got when he did something idiotic, but to his relief, she climbed in anyway.

With her head resting on one arm and the other thrown across her, making sure to place his hand on her bare stomach, he pulled her as close to himself as humanly possible. Exhaustion finally overtook him, and he drifted to sleep with Hermione's hair brushing against his chin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to you readers that reviewed this story. I have decided to continue it and see where it leads!**

The Sun Still Rises

Ron awoke lying on his back with the magnificent feeling of Hermione's arm across his bare chest. He lay as still as possible so as not to disrupt her. He did not want her to move. He was certain that the days that were to follow would be full of difficult decisions and sorrow. Surely, he could allow himself this few moments of pleasure.

He turned his head slowly to see if Harry had stirred. The "Boy who lived" looked as though he had not even moved since he crawled into his four-poster the previous night. Considering Harry had technically died, it was not surprising that he should need some extra sleep.

Judging by the glow of light on the ceiling, Ron guessed it was still relatively early in the morning. That was not at all surprising since it was barely nightfall when he had fallen asleep. It seemed so quiet for Hogwarts. The only sounds he heard were the slow steady breaths of his two best friends. He couldn't remember a time that the school had been so calm, but when he really thought about it, he couldn't recall ever listening so intently. He had never had the desire to just let the morning speak to him.

He wondered what the morning was saying to George. He sincerely hoped his brother had stayed at the Burrow and had not gone back to the apartment that he and Fred had shared. Although, Ron had to stop and remind himself that George would know best what George needed.

Their mother would dote and try to take care of everyone else. Their father would do everything his mother told him to do so as not upset her more. Everyone would deal with the days and weeks to come in their own way. What way did Ron need? He moved his hand slightly, letting Hermione's hair run through his fingers. At the same time, he looked back over to Harry. This was what he needed. He was right to stay here last night. He had spent the majority of the last seven years of his life with the two people in the room with him right now. They would get him through this the way they had gotten each other through everything life had thrown at them so far.

His mind shifted to the more practical needs of the next few days. He was certain that the plans for the Fred's funeral would already be underway. He hoped it wasn't too late to suggest that they have his service on the hill between the Lovegood's house and the Burrow. That was where they had always played Quiditch growing up. That was usually where Ron could count on finding his dear twin brothers, plotting new ways to irritate him or Ginny or the general population.

The next thought that crossed Ron's mind was rather odd. What then? The Dark Lord was dead. What would Ron do after Fred's funeral was finished? He didn't have long to ponder the future before feeling Hermione shift.

"Morning," he whispered before brushing a kiss on her forehead.

Hermione made a sound that Ron could best define as a purr while she traced little circles on his chest with her fingertips. Lying next to her, feeling her pressed against him, felt right. He couldn't imagine what kept him from doing this earlier, much earlier. But maybe, it had to be this way. They had to take care of the Voldemort business.

He wasn't going to waste anymore time now. "Hermione," he whispered, leaning up on his elbow to look at her.

"Ya," she said looking back at him through sleepy eyes.

"I love you."

Those sleepy eyes became glassy as she reached her hand up to stroke his cheek. "I love you too," she said softly.

He leaned forward, fully intending to kiss her.

"Oh, no!" she whispered, removing her hand from him and covering her mouth.

Ron lay there, staring at her, wondering why she would say she loved him but then refuse to kiss. _Maybe it was a muggle thing_, he thought.

She tried to scoot away from him, but he held tight.

"Why won't you kiss me?" he finally squeaked, certain his voice sounded positively pathetic.

She continued to pull away from him until finally he relaxed his hold. "I have horrible morning breath," she whispered, still keeping her mouth shielded. "I'll be right back." She bolted out the door before he could say another word.

He let out a chuckle. He wondered if life with Hermione would always be so full of surprises. He hoped so. He cupped his hand to his mouth and breathed out. The scent that wafted back at him nearly made him gag. He jumped to his feet as fast as the object of his affections to remedy the situation before her return.

"Miss Granger," shrieked Professor McGonagall as the two of them made their way towards the Great Hall, "What are you wearing!"

Hermione slapped Ron's shoulder when he wasn't able to suppress a laugh. He admired her courage when she didn't even try to cover herself. She threw her shoulders back and proudly turned to face their house leader.

"My clothes were destroyed during the battle," she said. "I found this at the back of my old dresser."

"Come with me," she motioned for them to follow her to her office. "I at least have a set of robes you can throw over your...outfit. And Mr. Weasley," she continued without stopping for a breath, "are you trying to show off your new and improved physique or did your clothes suffer the same demise as Miss Granger's?"

"Umm..." Ron stammered, kicking himself that he couldn't be as confident and quick with his response as Hermione. "Kreature took Harry and my stuff to wash, and umm..."

Unconsciously, Ron crossed his arms over his bare chest. "Harry is still asleep."

"Oh," Professor McGonagall got a glassy look in her eyes, just briefly. "You didn't want to wake him to summon Kreature for you?" she guessed.

Ron uncrossed his arms, feeling his confidence returning. "I thought he needed his sleep more than I needed my clothes."

Professor McGonagall grabbed another robe out of her closet. "It is rather chilly this morning," she said thrusting the black garment at Ron. "This will be too small, but it will keep you warm until you get to the gates and can apparate back home. I'll wait for Harry to rouse and be along with him later."

Ron and Hermione thanked her for the robes and assured her they would be clean and awaiting her when she arrived at the Burrow. Ron considered asking if the elves had made anything for breakfast, but he figured his parents must have left strict instructions for him to get home as soon as he woke up. That and the fact that Hermione would probably smack him again for suggesting that the elves do work for them.

Professor McGonagall was right, it was a cool morning. Ron was thankful for the robes and for the warm hand to hold of the love of his life. He heard a giggle coming from the direction of said love. " What?" he asked, noticing a smile on her face.

"Nothing," she said with a shake of her head but a broadening of the smile.

"What?" he demanded, stopping and spinning her around to face him.

Hermione reached for the clasp of the borrowed robes and released it one notch. "Professor McGonagall even noticed your...'New and improved physique'." She let go of Ron's hand long enough to make air quotes around the last part of her statement.

Ron unlatched the the robes completely; he pulled the sides back and thrust his chest out. "Do you like the new and improved Physique?"

Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red. "I must say that I do!" She reached forward and ran the tips of her fingers down his left side. Where she touched felt like it had caught fire and was rapidly spreading to the rest of his body. If she kept her hand where it was, he soon would be able to shed the borrowed robes, but all to soon she dropped her arm back to her side.

Ron pulled the top clasp back together and began to walk again. "When I apparated away from you and Harry...which I told you already, I wanted to come back as soon as I had done it." He released Hermione's hand and brushed his mussed hair back from his face.

This time Hermione stopped; she grabbed his arm. "I know Ron. I know." She reached up on her toes and kissed him on the cheek. "I know," she whispered again. She too tired to brush the stray piece of hair out of his eyes, but it fell directly back into its favorite place.

Hermione grabbed his hand back in hers and restarted their progression toward Hogsmead.

"The first couple weeks I spent with Bill and Fluer, I basically just paced. I felt like I would explode. I wouldn't hardly eat. When they tried to get me to, I just told them that you guys didn't have enough to eat, so I shouldn't either. I was going crazy trying to figure out how to get back to you." Ron felt his pulse quicken recalling the unpleasant memory. "I know I was driving them crazy. Bugger, I was driving myself crazy."

Hermione rubbed her free hand up and down his arm. He had started; he would finish.

"Finally, Bill sat me down." He gave a humorless laugh. "I imagine Fluer put him up to it."

He glanced sideways at Hermione. She nodded for him to continue.

Ron took a deep breath. "Anyway, Bill told me that there was no doubt in his mind that I would get back to you, somehow I would find a way. He said that I needed to prepare as best as I could for when I got there. He said if you and Harry didn't have enough to eat, then you guys wouldn't be able to fight at your best, so I should make it my business to be as strong as possible.

One of the side effects of Bill's condition is a lot of excess energy. He has a whole circuit of exercises that he does, so I joined him. It didn't really feel like I was doing anything productive, but at least I was doing something. I started helping Fluer cook, so I would be a little more helpful when I returned."

"I'd say you were a _little_ more helpful," Hermione teased.

"Gee thanks," he said playfully acting like he was tripping her. "Anyway, when I did get back to you guys, I would keep myself awake on my watches by doing crunches and pushups and squats. I didn't bring a jump rope with me, so I would just jump. I was able to keep mostly in shape." He inadvertently rubbed his abdomen. "Once we got to Shell Cottage, I joined Bill again."

They walked along in silence for a few minutes. Hermione seemed to be absorbing all that he had said. "I'm not trying to make you feel worse when I say this, but I missed you too. Sometimes I felt like there was a part of me missing."

Ron pulled her to him in a hug. He liked the feeling of her reaching her arms around him inside of the robes, it almost felt good enough to assuage the guilt that he still felt for walking away in the first place, almost.

"I told you that I didn't say it to make you feel guilty," she told him while stroking his back lightly with her hands. "I just wanted you to know that I missed you too."

Ron placed a kiss at the apex of her head. "I missed Harry, I mean he is my best friend and I had made a promise to help him, but it was you." He pulled her closer to him, wanting to assure himself she was indeed right there. "It was your voice and your scent and your smile and... A piece of me was missing too."

Soon they again moved toward their destination, but as they neared the boundary of the village, where apparition would be possible, Ron slowed.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked.

Ron stopped and pulled her to him one last time. "It's just... Once we go, we have so much else to deal with. While I'm here with you, I don't have to face the loss of Remus and Tonks and others that I probably don't even know about yet, and funeral plans, or how my family will go on without Fred." Ron could feel a tear at the corner of his eye, and he didn't try to fight it back.

Hermione placed her hands on his cheeks. "Your family will get through this together, just like you've always been. Because you see, the amazing thing about your family is you seem to absorb others in. So now, when you are faced with something like this, you have so many people around you, supporting you. You have Harry and Kingsley and Hagrid and McGonagall and so many others." Ron saw a rim of tears begin to spill from Hermione's eyes. "Then the most amazing thing about your family is that the comfort and support you gain from all those other people, you give back ten-fold without even realizing it." She leaned forward and kissed him softly. "And I will be right by your side."

With every once of strength Ron had in him, and some that he was certain he was borrowing from Hermione, he stepped forward.


End file.
